


Karmina

by mugenjo



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Art, M/M, Naoise is mentioned in chap2, POV switch, Sad Ending, english is not my first language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 16:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugenjo/pseuds/mugenjo
Summary: Oh, the irony. Spending his life trying to build a world where his hand was strong enough to guide the weak, only to find out that this hand couldn't save one man, the only one he should’ve saved. That he had the hand of someone weak, like everyone else.
Relationships: Aglovale/Siegfried (Granblue Fantasy)
Kudos: 3





	1. Aglovale

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last year at the end of May after [Nabashi](https://twitter.com/mobasaure) shared a couple of angsty illustration about a SiegAglo bad ending.  
> While searching for something else entirely, I stumbled upon this and send it again to Nab. And they suggested that I should share it. So here we are.
> 
> You will have a link to the tweet at the end of the chapters.  
> I wrote this with ["All the King's Horses" by Karmina](https://open.spotify.com/track/6VZ7N7Q2C5YEwLh4EhIWf8?si=08b0f1dbe2b549b3) (and now, you know the reason of the title).

Aglovale's hand wasn't shaking anymore. His eyes stared at the pool of red at his feet, vacantly. The sudden silence was like an echo to the emptiness that filled him the moment his arms drew the final movement. Blood was still dripping from the blade secured in his hand. His mother's sword. His last attempt of mercy. As his eyes slowly went to the dark silhouette lying in the red, everything finally sunk.

Powerless again to save someone he loved.  
And now, he had Siegfried’s blood on his hand.

His grip on the sword tightened as he turned his back to the corpse, trying to get himself together. All this work, all those promises only to fail. Guilt was slowly eating away the emptiness, filling it again with feelings of a distant past. Except this time, the only person to blame, to hate was himself.  
Oh, the irony. Spending his life trying to build a world where his hand was strong enough to guide the weak, only to find out that this hand couldn't save one man. The only one he should’ve saved. That he had the hand of someone weak, like everyone else.

Squaring his shoulder, Aglovale closed his eyes to try and collect himself, to stop the small tremor in his breathing. Now was not the time to wallow in his sorrow. Siegfried deserved more than to lay on the floor of a dark cell, in this cursed blood that he couldn't be freed from. He deserved more than empty promises. More than the love of a man that couldn't break those invisible bonds in his veins. But it was too late for that. The only thing left to do was to take care of Siegfried's body and lay him to finally rest, alongside the only King he ever served.

Finally, Aglovale steeled himself and turned back to Siegfried.  
Only to face those burning eyes staring at him in all their draconic rage.  
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. It was over before he could even lift the blade in his hand, Siegfried’s hand buried far too deep in his body.

 _Ah_ , though Aglovale. _So I couldn't even save you from this._

The sound of the sword hitting the floor didn't even reach Aglovale ears as the pain that grew from his stomach into his whole body dulled all his senses. The growl that rumbled out from Siegfried clenched teeth didn't leave any doubt. Fafnir blood was the only thing still here, wearing Siegfried face like a grotesque mask. It didn't took long for the pain to dull and his vision was darkening around the edge. Aglovale knew it was only a matter of seconds at this point.

With the last of his forces, he lifted his arms, burrowing one of his hands in the dirty lock of Siegfried, closing the distance into a final embrace. His other hand closed on the wound that the dragon fire managed to close enough to save his host. Dirt and blood. Ironically, the metallic smell wasn't as strange as it should, clinging to this man. He could take this as his last memory, the feeling of warmth in his arms and this.

Even with his mind lost, Siegfried seemed too surprised by the gesture to move. Aglovale used the remaining of his life to cast a final spell. The temperature of the cell dropped suddenly. Ice started spreading, clinging on Siegfried skin from where Aglovale was still touching him. With a howl of rage and pain, Siegfried freed himself and ran away.

Leaving behind him the lifeless body of a King whose soul of ice would only live to put out Fafnir burning rage… and maybe finally save Siegfried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Nabashi](https://twitter.com/mobasaure) original tweet can be found here: [link](https://twitter.com/mobasaure/status/1265417799519932417).
> 
> Please like, share and comment their work. They're the only reason I write SiegAglo.


	2. Siegfried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an allusion to the latest fates for Naoise. It's vague, really vague but consider yourself warned anyway.

It always started the same way.

A shiver, a cold sensation in his nape as he started to wake up. Something familiar and strangely comforting. For a second or two, at least. His mind would still be foggy with sleep, the ghost golden lock of hair and the faint smell of roses lingering. But it never lasted.

Ice never waited too long to grip at his skin like a vice, fighting with the fire that raced through his veins. And in the middle of this battle of elements, Siegfried was still there, trying to cling at the last remnant of his sense of self.

Hidden between cargos, Siegfried tried to contain as much as he could the ice from progressing more. He could already feel a thick layer on his left side while another one gradually went down his right shoulder. He didn’t even try to fight the urge to claw at the largest expanse on his abdomen. Fafnir’s blood tended to boil under his skin if he resisted, as he learned early on. At some point of this nightmare, Siegfried had noticed that what clawed desperately at the cold wasn’t his gauntlet anymore but his own hands. Or what became of them as they weren’t that different from his lost armor except for the fact that scales had replaced steel.

How long has it been since this waking nightmare was his life? Siegfried couldn’t even tell since Fafnir tends to take over more than he wanted to think about. What was once a burning rage estranged to his own feeling was now closer to a voice. Rugged and filled with contempt. Mocking his desperate attempts to preserve the last remains of his humanity.

_Humanity? Ahahaha. You amuse me, slayer. You were always a beast, even before me._

Without hesitation, Siegfried pierced the ice on his side with enough force to break the skin under. Pain flashed through his body, wresting a low growl from him but thankfully also silenced the voice. His breathing short, Siegfried did his best to ignore the thick liquid running through his fingers even if the metallic scent was already filling the small space of the airship hold. 

At least, this time it was only his blood. Far too many times, he regained his senses, covered in blood definitely not his, the taste of it making him nauseous while he did his best to run as far as he could from civilization. Trying in vain to let the ice take him only to realize that Fafnir will never let him die in the cold embrace of it.

The airship engine stopped purring, alerting Siegfried that he finally arrived at his destination. His last hope. 

Before light flooded his hiding place, his claws gripped harshly at his wound in an attempt to ground him. He was so close, he couldn’t let this cursed blood take over once more. As soon as the first merchant came into view, the fire in his vein sang and the ice nearly reached his elbow. And the voice was here again. Laughing. Taunting.

_Let’s kill him, slayer._

— Hey! Damned free-riders!

Before anyone, Fafnir or the merchant, could do anything, Siegfried broke the ice with a roar before rushing to the exit. 

The sight of Alster greeted him and with it, the distinct feeling of Deirdre presence on the island. If he had all his mind to him, Siegfried would probably have realized that the feral being he was now could only be perceived as a threat by the friendly monsters. But then, he wouldn’t need to be there in the first place. His escape went in a blur of blood, frost pain and boiling fire under his skin.

This is how she found him in the forest not far from the capital. Barely clinging to his sense, clawing at the ice on his torso. He knew of her presence before even seeing her, snarling in the direction of the small erune form she wore. The burning rage inside of Siegfried was faced with soft sadness. But as soon as Siegfried crossed her red stare, his snarls calmed down. The fiery colors of his eyes dimmed to an earthy tone.  
His breathing still ragged and his face smeared with dirt and blood, he only managed one word, his voice broken from disuse. 

— Deirdre… 

Slowly, Scathcha approched without any trace of fear. Her vessel seemed to have aged. Has it been years? Maybe. Her power only seemed more potent the closer she was. Siegfried could feel Fafnir growl within himself, unless it was him. But still, he didn’t move. The only thing he could do was to stare at those eyes, without seeing them. Only their color.  
Once she reached him, she lifted her hand and, ignoring the grime, wiped the clear trail on Siegfried cheek.

— I’m sorry the Lord of Frost didn’t succeed. 

Siegfried eyes widened at those words. The cold cage growing on his body burning at his nape and his side once more. An awful reminder of what he lost. What he did.

In a blink of an eye, Siegfried’s eyes took the fiery colors and with a mighty roar, he aimed for Scathacha's throat. She barely moved to evade as Aglovale’s spell locked his movements for a few seconds. Before Siegfried could shake off the irritating layer of ice, Scathacha’s dragon claw was already embedded in his chest. 

The spell slowly started to recede, the cold staying only were it took its root back then. His nape and his side. The fire that burned him from the inside for years was now nothing more than embers dying down. Scathacha must have laid him down at some point because Siegfried could now see the sky between the tree leaves. A constant pain that he wasn’t even aware of finally subsided. 

Scathacha stayed, silently. Just has she did with Naoise. And after a moment, she reached to close Siegfried's honey eyes before standing. She needed to reach for the captain. There were most definitely people who would want to know about the Dragon Slayer fate. She glanced one last time at the peaceful man laying in the grass.

— Now, you can finally rest… the both of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Nabashi](https://twitter.com/mobasaure) original tweet can be found here: [link](https://twitter.com/mobasaure/status/1265670404389122049).
> 
> Please like, share and comment their work. They're the only reason I write SiegAglo.


End file.
